


Birthday Cakes and Simple Mistakes.

by TayBartlett9000



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Birthdays, British Humour, Cake, Comedy, Family, Humour, M/M, Mistakes, Rick loves Vyvyan, Secret love, Students, Stupidity, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 19:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TayBartlett9000/pseuds/TayBartlett9000
Summary: It is Vyvyan's birthday and Rick is trying to make his birthday a memorable one, without letting Vyvyan know that Rick loves him of course. However, the universe  is working against him.





	Birthday Cakes and Simple Mistakes.

Rick was sure that Vyvyan would laugh at him. No. More than that. Rick knew for certain that Vyvyan would laugh at him. More than likely, said laughter would be swiftly followed with a slap to the head or a punch to the face, or possibly even both. But somehow, Rick didn’t mind too much. He had been planning this for weeks.

He stood alone in the kitchen, observing the shere brilliance of what he had just made, bye himself, from scratch. Before him, sat a large cake, decorated with orange icing. True, it wasn’t the traditional cake shape as it resembled something closer to an unsightly and indisurnable lump than anything else, but he was proud of it. It was also true that this cake was decorated with icing that was almost precisely the wrong texture and almost exactly the worst colour ever to be used in baking, but yes, there was no doubt about it, Rick was proud of it. He knew that he would never win star baker on the Great British Bake off, but no matter. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Vyvyan would be as pleased with his confectionary skills as Rick was, but at least it was a cake.

Rick wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but he could tell from a simple glance out of the window that it was still early ish. It would be hours before anyone else was up. Even Neil usually refused to get up before ten. As for Vyvyan, he wouldn’t be up for hours yet. That meant that Rick could put everything in motion before he woke up. Today was going to be a big day, and for once, this big day wasn’t in celebration of anything he had done. Rick was in fact thinking of someone else. Who knew?

Vyvyan was in fact the main object of Rick’s efforts, though he was of course going to have to take care not to let that show too much. Rick had spent two of Vyvyan’s birthdays in the flat but had thus far done nothing to help him celebrate them. In normal circomstances, he wouldn’t have to. Vyvyan always made sure that his birthday was known about, celebrated and ‘bloody well enjoyed’ by all. But today, Rick had made a special effort, a special effort for Vyvyan.

Rick wasn’t sure why he was doing this. Vyvyan had never been especially nice to him. In fact, Vyvyan Basterd had made sure that Rick knew of his hatred for him. Still, Rick had always hoped that one day, he and Vyvyan would somehow manage to form some sort of understanding with each other. So far though, this had not happened. In some way, Rick supposed that this was why he was making an effort with the birthday cake and all. Perhaps if Vyvyan saw the lengths he was going to in order to ensure that he had a good birthday, Vyvyan would come around. Hopefully.

Rick pondered what else he could do to make Vyvyan’s birthday a surprise. He then spied the kettle lying inertly on the counter and realised that a surprise cup of birthday tea would probably go down very well indeed. He didn’t know much about the art of making tea but he thought that he could have a stab at it.

Minutes later, a slightly frustrated Rick was standing in the kitchen, looking down at the cup of tea that he had finally managed to make. Neil was normally the person who made the tea. Rick knew that in order to make a cup of tea that tasted something like tea, he would have had to ask Neil. But that would have meant giving the game away. He wasn’t willing to do that. In any case, it looked like tea. It smelled like tea. Rick had even included a bit of milk and sugar. Hopefully it would taste like tea. ‘Another splendid effort,’ Rick told himself.

Then, he thought of yet another thing that would factor into the general surprises of the day. He would go upstairs and wake Vyvyan up with some breakfast in bed. Ah, yes. What a fine idea. There was some curry left over from the previous night and Rick knew how much Vyvyan loved a curry. He retrieved this now cold curry and found a tray on which to place the tea and plastic tub. It looked splendid, if Rick was to say so himself. He would take it up to Vyv’s room.

Vyvyan’s room was easily the messiest in the flat. He knew nothing about tidying. He knew even less than nothing about cleaning and Neil was never allowed in that room. As a result, Vyvyan’s room was pretty easy to find, if one was searching with one’s nose that is. This was precisely what Rick proceded to do and in moments, he was standing outside Vyvyan’s bedroom door. Knocking upon it, Rick entered and made his way over to the bed, stepping over dropped clothes and disguarded vodka bottles as he did so. 

“Morning, Vyvyan,” he said in as chirpy a voice as he could muster, “I’ve brought you a surprise.”

That was the first mistake that Rick made.

Vyvyan woke angrily, looked furiously up into Rick’s face and glanced with outright frustration at the tray in Rick’s hands. “What in the bloody hell are you doing?” Vyvyan yelled, sitting up and eyeing Rick with eyes dark with rage, “what the bloody bloody hell do you mean by waking me up? What bloody time is it?” Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he caught a glimpse of the time and turned back to Rick. “Eight in the morning!” he bellowed, “what the bloody hell man.”

Rick opened his mouth and tried his best to form words. “Erm…” he began haltingly, “erm… I’ve brought you something.”

Vyvyan was evidently not to be quietened. He picked up the clock and flung it across the room, watching it as it hit the opposite wall with a thud.

“Don’t you want to see it?” Rick asked hopefully.

Grabbing the tray from Rick’s hands, Vyvyan inspected the cup of tea and the cold contents of the plastic tub. Rick watched his face carefully, noting that Vyvyan certainly did not look pleased. “This curry’s cold you birk!” Vyvyan shouted, “why is this curry bloody cold? You can’t eat cold curry?”

“Sorry Vyv,” Rick apologised, hoping that the tea would meet with Vyvyan’s approval.

But no. “And what in the name of God is this supposed to be?”Vyvyan screamed, anger apparently bubbling over, “tell me, Rick. What the bloody hell is this supposed to be?”

“Tea,” Rick replied in a voice now lacking in confidence.

Vyvyan snorted with derision. “This is not tea!” he shouted back, “tea tastes good. I’ve no idea what this mucky water’s supposed to be, but it is not tea.” 

An dwith that, Vyvyan threw the cup of tea across the room to join the shattered remnants of the clock on the floor.

Rick was upset. He had worked hard on that cup of tea. He had spent ten minutes making that bloody cup of tea and now Vyvyan had thrown all of this back in his face. No matter. He still had his cake. He would show Vyvyan that he cared for him and his birthday somehow, even if it was the last thing he did. ‘Oh, careful,’ a small voice said inside Rick’s head, ‘don’t wish for that. You know how much vyv loves anything violent.’

Vyvyan was muttering under his breath and as Rick returned his attention to his fellow flat mate one more time, he caught the words ‘bastard,’ ‘tosser’ and ‘bloody murder.’ He had to placate him somehow.

“I have another surprise for you, Vyvyan,” Rick said hesitantly, “it’s down in the kitchen.”

But Vyvyan was clearly not in the mood to be anything close to friendly at this point. “Get out of it, you poof!” he shouted as he lay back in bed, “I’m busy trying to sleep.”

Rick could see that there was no point in arguing with him. Sighing deeply, he turned and left the room. He then turned back and re-entered. “Happy birthday, Vyv,” he said brightly.

No response.

Rick left the room once again, walking quickly back down the stairs and trying hard not to allow himself to feel too disheartened about the whole thing. This was not working as well as Rick had hoped.

He wandered aimlessly into the living room, switching on the tv and plonking his backside down onto the sofa, preparing to wait until Vyvyan awoke naturally before he sprung the next surprise upon him.

Rick sat upon the dilapidated and curry stained sofa in the cluttered living room for what felt like hours. He sat staring straight ahead, noticing neither the tv nor the lightening day outside the window. He didn’t rouse himself until he could hear the sounds of footsteps on the landing overhead and as he sat up and stretched, he glanced at the clock on the wall. He had been sitting thus for hours. It was now half past eleven in the morning and the house was beginning to wake up around him.

The first to venture downstairs from his bedroom was Mike. He sauntered into the living room, fresh faced and quietly arrogant as always. He sat down on the sofa and took the remote from Rick’s hands.

“Oy!” Rick said indignantly as he made a grab for the tv remote, “I was watching that.” He hadn’t been, but he felt as if he had to put up a fight. Mike did what ever he wanted around here and Rick was determined to put up some sort of resistance.

Mike ignored him. “Oh,. I see,” he replied, “that’s a shame. Pitty you won’t be watching it any more, isn’t it.”

Rick said nothing. What could he say. Mike had managed to get his way again.

Neil wandered in, looking vaguely confused as usual. “Can I ask a question?” he asked.

“No,” Rick and Mike replied in unison.

Vyvyan exploded into the room, almost tearing the door from its hinges as he clattered into view. “Good morning,” he said loudly and obviously, “happy birthday to me, I think. Now, where are my presents?” He strode across the room, glancing at the table that was curiously devoid of presents.

“Can I ask a question, Vyv?” Neil asked.

“No,” Vyvyan replied, turning on Rick and Mike as he realised that his birthday lacked presents. “What the bloody hell is this about?” he aske in fury, “where the bloody hell are my presents, you bastards?”

‘Damn it,’ thought Rick, ‘that’s something I forgot. I forgot to get Vyv a present.’

“Mike had no funds with which to spend on presents,” Mike replied, as usual referring to himself in the third person.

“What about you, Neil!” Vyvyan barked.

Neil snorted with derision. “I never have any money, Vyvyan,” he replied sulkily, “I have to use most of my money for shopping, you know that.” He shook his head and glanced from Vyvyan to Mike and then to Rick. “Can I ask a question?”

“No!” the three other students bellowed in unison.

Neil made no verbal reply. He merely sighed in frustration and stalked out of the living room.

Vyvyan turned his attention to Rick. “What about you, poof?” he demanded furiously, “have you not given me a present?”

Rick shook his head, somewhat guiltily. “No, I haven’t,” he said quietly, “but…”

Vyvyan was evidently uninterested in hearing what Rick had to say. “Shut it, poof!” he BELLOWED, “YOU WAKE ME UP WITH COLD CURRY AND TEA THAT ISN’T TEA AND YOU DON’T HAVE ANY PRESENTS FOR ME?.

But Rick had to speak Up. “I do have a nice surprise for you though,” he said with a needle of hope in his voice.

Vyvyan cut him off a second time. “I said, shuut up you poof.”

Rick fell silent, knowing that to say anything more would be foolish.

Neil tramped into the room once more, a determined look upon his face that was similar to that of a blood hound desperate to find that lump of meat lying across the field. “Hay guys,” he said, “listen, I need to ask a question. It is of the upmost importance that I ask a question.”

It was apparent that Neil’s three house mates had had enough. “Then tell us!” Vyvyan yelled, losing the plot entirely.

Neil stood tall as if to launch forth into a grand announcement. He cleared his throat and said, “what is that nasty orange lump on the work top in the kitchen?”

Everything fell silent and Rick suddenly felt all eyes upon him, although he was fairly sure that no one could have known that he had been baking earlier in the day. He felt however that it would be prudent to justify himself. “Er…” he began, unsure of what to say. He glanced at Neil, knowing full well that the knowledge of what that nasty orange lump was was written across his face. “Er…” he said again, “where did you find that orange lump?”

“On the work top in the kitchen like I said,” Neil replied, slightly annoyed, “I had a quick look at it and it looks like some sort of cake. But it ain’t any kind of cake that I ever saw before.”

Rick laughed, a distinctly humourless laugh. “A cake, ay?” he asked, “what did you do with it?”

Neil shrugged. “I threw it in the bin. The thing was nasty.”

“You threw it away?” Rick was furious.

“Yeah. Why?”

Rick sighed. His plans to make Vyvyan’s birthday a memorable one had been scupperd by the hippy. It was just like Neil to ruin everything for him. Stupid bloody hippy.

Rick desperately wanted to say something and even as he sat there, he opened his mouth as if to launch into a long extended rant at Neil about being careless and stupid. But he knew that he couldn’t say anything. If Vyvyan knew that he had a cake for him, he would have a few choice words for him. If Vyvyan found out that Rick had baked the cake himself, then Vyvyan would definitely have a few more choice words to say to him. Rick was in a bind, and it was all Neil’s bloody fault. 

“So,” Vyvyan said, turning to Rick with an accusatary frown, “where is my surprise?”

Shit. Rick had to say something now. He cleared his throat and muttered something indistinct.

“I didn’t hear that, poof!” Vyvyan raged.

“I don’t have one after all,” Rick admitted.

The next few moments were a blurr for Rick. He knew only that in one moment, he had gone from sitting bemused on the sofa to being chased up the stairs by a very angry Vyvyan. He tore up the stairs like a helpless rabbit as Vyvyan persued him with fury in his voice. Rick reached the top of the stairs and sprinted for his room, slamming the door shut and praying that Vyvyan would not come in. He knew that he would. Rick couldn’t escape. He only had time to reflect on how badly the day had gone before Vyvyan burst in with a wild shout of “come here you bastard!”

Rick could think of nothing to say. He had buggered the whole thing up. ‘Bloody hell,’ he thought to himself as he pushed past Vyvyan and made his way back down the stairs, ‘I don’t think I’ll be doing anything nice for Vyvyan any time soon.’

But even as he told himself that, Rick knew that it wasn’t true.


End file.
